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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205220">I Always Find You Broken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordTraco/pseuds/LordTraco'>LordTraco</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Dependency, Dismemberment, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Human Experimentation, M/M, Mind Meld, Post HLVRAI, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, loss of self, swears</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:02:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordTraco/pseuds/LordTraco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured and tortured brutally by the remnants of the military and Black Mesa, Benrey wishes he could just die. Of course Gordon has to find him and get his hopes up. Will Gordon really let that cruelty slide and join forces with his old employers against the looming threat, or will his conscience get in the way? Or is there a third option?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benrey &amp; Gordon Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Breaking the Broken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm not holding back in this fic. This will get DARK. Please be careful and know your limits, there is absolutely nothing wrong with saying this isn't for you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn't like that was a necessary limb anymore. Who needs legs when you don't have the energy to even blink? It'll grow back again like every other time. They were nice enough to take it all in one go this time. He must have behaved to their liking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of his Sweet Voice was faint, and the colors were dim and transparent. They were of pain and exhaustion, his new normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh how he missed that first day when they still let him speak. He'd told his captors everything, too weak from the battle to care what they did with him or his information.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noob mistake there, once they had all his lore, he was as useless as an NPC with no more quests to give.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So they trapped him, tortured him, made sure he never fully healed. All his powers were focused on keeping up his god-mode, so he was out of mana. He gave up hope that he had any sort of rage mode like fighting game characters. Hell knows he's lost enough HP to have triggered it if he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey could tune it out sometimes. When they peeled him layer by layer like he was at the top of a clickbait's Top 10 Most Fucked Up Onions, he was proud to have only winced a couple times because the pain was slow and deliberate and predictable. Or at least it was when they weren't pouring salt and vinegar and acid and every other painful substance at his newly exposed interior design. He promised himself he'd never eat a single salt and vinegar potato chip ever again after that. Not when he could relate to the process of making it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ahh the good old days, when his mind was still S rank and could actually reach so far back as to remember taste. And imagine getting back out. That was long gone now. This was forever until they found a way to kill him. Or got bored trying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey felt the sawblade bite into his other leg and let out a single happy tone as he felt unconsciousness pull him back into a loving embrace. Maybe this time it would be permanent. He hoped so.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Benrey?" He heard a voice. A real genuine voice, a full word! Not just the insane cackles or irritated huffs of his torturers. It was a word. A word addressed to him. Was he dead?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey blinked, slow and deliberate. Sweet Voice burned in his throat but he didn't have the energy to open his mouth to grant them freedom. It took all he had not to gasp at the pain from where his legs should be and focus on the blurry sight before him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A face came into view and the shock invigorated Benrey enough to force his mouth to open ever so slightly, cracking his dried lips. It was Gordon, crazy long hair and everything!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The colors that came out were desaturated but they were colors of joy, of hope, of regret, and of care. Not that Gordon would know any of that, but he didn't care as long as someone who knew him was here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feetman might hate him to the point of wanting him dead, but at this point that'd be preferable. Anything to stop this. Anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dr. Freeman, you would do well to stay away from the test subject. If you need the information it gave us, we have recordings in my office." Benrey couldn't see the owner of the other voice. Didn't dare look away from Gordon, internally begging him to stay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard to read Gordon's expression. Benrey wasn't sure he'd ever fully grasped the concept of body language. Tone of voice was just a retro form of Sweet Voice, so that was no problem. But a scrunched up face and wide eyes could mean anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Right, yeah. You said he had… important stuff to say." Gordon looked away from Benrey for a second, and Benrey felt his hope shattering. His tone sounded reluctant but not defiant. Gordon wasn't here to save him, and that sat like a stone in his gut. "I guess I was hoping to hear it from him myself. Be sure he's not lying."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Doctor. I behoove you not to think of this thing as anything more than a mass of cancer cells." The way the other voice said "thing" with such dismissiveness and vile hatred, Benrey could easily imagine dark-blue-</span>
  <em>
    <span>I-hate-you</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sweet Voice playing behind it. "It lives and regenerates and is useful for our purposes. Nothing more."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But Benrey-" Benrey met eyes with Gordon again, and let out a deliberate stream of taupe, his color of hope. He didn't dare blink, wishing so fervently to reach his once-friend. He held onto the memories of pestering the man before him. He longed for those days back, even if he had to fight and lose all over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All at once his head swam with new pain. Benrey gurgled on painful bubbles as acid travelled through what he called his Agony Tube. They'd fused said tube to his collarbone the last time they'd peeled him down to only a skeleton. Turning it on was the quickest way to get him to stop rebellious Sweet Voice. Having your whole neck and torso melt and burn painfully from the inside out was 0/10 worst game of the year award.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It has no name." The voice was sharp and deliberate. Benrey more felt than heard the footsteps going away from him, as the pain dulled his hearing. Oh, because he was whining. Cringe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt betrayed, hurt, reminded once again of the time with the door falling on him, cutting him in half, and his friends just… walking away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He never thought the agony could be worse than it already was. On some small level he knew one could be hurt emotionally just as bad as you could be hurt physically. He knew betrayal had hurt Gordon beyond just a lost arm. And sure it had hurt that his friends wanted him dead, but that was when he was being bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He felt lonely, hopeless, betrayed. Angry. He was so very angry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Rage mode unlocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped "breathing". It wasn't an intake of air like humans, but it was as good an analogy as he had. It was mostly involuntary and if he stopped, his god-mode stopped. Best for when he was trapped and needed a respawn, but he didn't have the energy for a respawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was time to skirt the line. Play the QuickTime event. Button mash and pray!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took conscious effort to sustain, especially as it heightened his sensitivity to pain. There was a reason he'd never tried this. But now every time the pain felt too much he envisioned Gordon's face. He imagined Gordon living the rest of his life feeling guilty over not saving him! Spite fueled him forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he took a "breath" he controlled where it was used. It was like turning off Auto Fight Mode for a boss because the healer's AI is far inferior to your epic gamer skills. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in forever, Benrey felt a surge of energy. No longer was he trying to heal everything at once. Healing only his torso left him just enough energy to no-clip out of his Agony Tube and off that damn table. Fuck that table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was refreshing, exhilarating, and he cackled to himself loudly. He felt drunk on power even just doing that much. And speaking of power… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bro there's something that's </span>
  <em>
    <span>using</span>
  </em>
  <span> Xen to get here! It's going to be bad! Worse-than-me bad."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon watched the screen, trying to focus on the words and not the fact that Benrey was bleeding out everywhere from bullet wounds and bite marks, nasty burns and bruises on every exposed patch of skin. He hated Benrey, wanted him dead for so many valid reasons, but these people saw a man on death's doorstep and did nothing to help him. He was weak and trembling and had to stop off and on to cough up blood, but no one gave him so much as a bandage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>what they are! But they're top tier and bad and you need to prepare!" There was such strain in his voice, Sweet Voice setting an undertone as green slipped out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Green means he's not mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" Gordon recalled Tommy's voice saying. It was all he could do to keep his hand from his mouth. Tommy can never learn of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The video feed cut out just as a taser was used on Benrey, likely for using Sweet Voice. Didn't they know it wasn't dangerous? The most it can do is hold you in place! Or calm you down with blue raspberry flavor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon chided himself internally for worrying about Benrey. This was the alien that burnt people alive and killed in cold blood and called his son shit and caused his arm to be cut off. Not to even mention the fact that he had tried to kill them all after actively impeding his progress the whole entire time!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There you have it, Dr. Freeman. Something else is headed our way. We're going to need your assistance," the scientist explained, turning off the monitor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What assistance could you possibly need from me? All I did was fight off aliens and people with guns out of desperation."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, well. You leading a team of three people was successful beyond imagination. If we simply give you a larger team along with more guns and ammo, it stands to reason that this will be good preparation for whatever may come."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess. But wasn't the military practically wiped out?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sadly yes, but that is why we perfected our cloning capabilities." The scientist held up a finger as Gordon sat up straight and began to look upset. "And before you ask, no, we have left those you know as Dr. Coomer and Bubby alone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Who did you clone, then?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Doctor Freeman," they drawled out the first word, almost sounding disappointed, "We thought you were better at connecting the dots. Come along."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Serging the Edges</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Of Black Mesa's top 10 most fucked up experiments, this is definitely up there. Gordon complies with them and things take a rather... strange turn.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In case it gets confusing:<br/>Italics - Thoughts of Benrey's (when it's Gordon's time with the braincell- I mean Point of View)<br/>Bold - Thoughts of Gordon's (when it's Benrey's POV)<br/>Italics and Bold - Who knows</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were out there. His other skeletons. Every single time he died and respawned, he had another skeleton at his disposal. He could feel them like he could feel his own toes. Or, well… ok not currently given his lack of anything below his butt, but normally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benrey finally had energy to spare now that he wasn't spending all his effort to heal his legs. A soft teal green heal beam had stopped the bleeding, thankfully, but he knew something was wrong. His skeletons felt numb. Tingling even. They didn't obey him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought sent a terror through him, the likes of which he never thought possible. Close to 90% of everything he considered himself was… gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do you think of your new army, Commander Freeman?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon froze as hundreds of carbon copies of Benrey stood stock still in perfect rows. None of them moved, none of them blinked, none of them breathed. Their eyes were empty. Hollow. Lifeless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, they're quite an ugly sight. But fear not, they have no will of their own. They live only to serve the one who is deemed their commander."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this what you did to him?" Gordon shivered, noticing that their faces were stitched together, as if they'd used layers of flesh like paper mache and sewed up the rest. They were ghastly things, yes, like Frankenstein, but in a way that shows how truly horrifying the creators are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scientist put a gentle hand to his arm, dropping into an obviously faked tone of sincerity and care. "It helps to pretend they're nothing but robots. Robots we are offering you to help us protect everyone you hold dear."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon thought of Joshua. The boy didn't deserve to inherit a world of chaos and war. If taking control of these ghastly things could mean keeping him safe, does it really matter if one asshole alien had to suffer? Hadn't he killed enough of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Killed was the operative word. He killed aliens. He killed people. But never had he tortured anyone. Perhaps he had threatened to torture Forzen, but he had to be above this. For his own sanity he needed to think he was above causing that much suffering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe. Maybe he could make the best of the situation. Take charge and demand that he has enough clones. Order that Benrey be put out of his misery for good. Yes. Yes if he left here today another power hungry person might show up to take his place and demand more and more be made.</span>
</p><p><span>‘Make the best of a bad situation, Gordon. Make the best of it.’</span> <span>He thought to himself.</span></p><p>
  <span>"I'll do it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I knew you'd see it our way, Commander Freeman." When had that hand that patted his arm held a syringe? What was happening?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Error</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>E R R O R</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon's head swam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was too big, there was too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was everywhere and...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...And there was someone else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey felt like he was punched in the brain. Something. Someone. Somehow there was a Player 2.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, no fuck. He was player 2. How was he player 2? In his own-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Player two?" Gordon whispered aloud, blinking rapidly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Steady there, Commander. It will take some getting used to. Humans only typically have one body after all." They were sorta hugging him in an awkward effort to keep him from falling. It was just barely working, he was a tall guy after all and the scientist was shorter and without much muscle to speak of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt an urge to tease them and smirked. He leaned on them more, huffing in feigned effort and genuine confusion. "W-what's happening?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Commander, PLEASE." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took pity on the shorter scientist, leaning back and righting himself. "Apologies, that is a very weird sensation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They huffed, ears reddened from irritation and effort more than embarrassment. He really wished it was embarrassment though. It'd be so cringe. Epic fail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step back, eyes widening at his own thought. "What did you inject me with?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Specialized command cells from the test subject. Please let us know if there are any strange symptoms."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benrey. He'd been injected with-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With bits of myself?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With bits of my-what? No, no this felt like the time with the last evil Coomer clone. Something was in his head-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bro you're in mine and don't even got a passport. SMH.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon gripped his head, shaking it. He felt other arms move in unison. His army. They were like extra limbs. A lot of fucked up extra limbs. He was too big, too many, too spread out.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chill, chill bro. Sorry I can't Sweet Voice you when you need it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Benrey stop!" He said, knowing on some level that Benrey wasn't even doing much more than thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focusing on Benrey, Gordon found he could locate him spatially, but he couldn't feel or command the alien's original body. He could feel pain radiating out from it, but also hope. Hope the likes of which he'd only felt after holding his son the first time he got out of Black Mesa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was excessively hard not to feel compassion for Benrey when they were empathetically linked like this. Gordon decided not to criticize himself for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Worry not, the test subject will be fully euthanized tonight. We do not want it impeding your control."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon felt ice cold fear grip his heart, but he couldn't tell if it originated with Benrey or himself or both. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, bro… I don't. I don't want to die yet. I thought I did but I don't.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon felt fear welling in him that wasn't his own. He blinked back tears that welled up in reaction to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew without a doubt that both of them had wanted Benrey put out of his misery mere moments ago. Perhaps all it took was sensing the hope in each other that there was another way. Perhaps it was realizing the toll that his death would have on Gordon. Perhaps it was the fact that fucked up things were happening and it was easier to deal with when you aren't alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit they're coming!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Admin Access Requested of Feetman</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Footsteps were coming. Benrey had to put aside his predicament with Feetman invading his personal mindspace bubble and leave. He had to leave, just no-clip away, just no-clip!!!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't have access to it. Shitty game only let player one open the menu to unlock cheat codes!</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Access Granted. You asshole.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Benrey disappeared through a wall seconds before another scientist entered. Safe. Safe in the back of a closet, but safe.</span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling of safety had Gordon sighing in relief, which he turned to his advantage. "No need."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've removed your test subject from existence. He… well </span>
  <em>
    <span>it </span>
  </em>
  <span>was getting irritating."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Broooo he/they pronouns please and thank. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon felt a wave of pride and figured despite his words, Benrey was impressed with his plan. First time for everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That- no, we still need-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you questioning the new commander?" Gordon asked, looming with his full height over them. They went quiet. "Do you think I'm incapable of murder? You should do your homework."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have my permission to scare them with my other selves too. Go Fearman!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon bit back an amused retort about them being his now, and made one of the closest bodies lumber closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would never, C-commander." A sick part of him was amused at how much fear changed their act. It made sense in Black Mesa, however. You lived in fear of those above you, no matter how nice they may have been before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. Because I know Black Mesa wouldn't send a high up in here to power up a dangerous and unknown variable like me. They'd send someone juuuust a little too proud of their position. Someone expendable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Commander, permission to-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not granted. Fuck off and tell your superiors the news that I've accepted."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon waited until they were gone to shudder at how easily that had come to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bro chill you were just stanning a villain. You're still all talk and no bite.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>"</span></em><span>Says</span> <span>the one I literally killed!" Gordon whispered out loud with a relieved laugh.</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can't take all the credit, my exp got divided five ways.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon let out another relieved sigh before realizing his heart was racing. He was worked up into a panic over acting bad?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He was feeling Benrey's anxiety over being discovered.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I couldn't think of how to break this into two chapters, so I shoved it all into one. I have no more written of this yet, so comment if you want more!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Resets and Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Benrey is spotted, but that's not what causes the ensuing panic.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shout out to Mythyk for commenting and keeping me motivated to write more of this!! Here's hoping this shorter chapter lives up to expectations!</p><p>Also I'm keeping this gen, but a past crush on Benrey's part is pretty canon so that's referenced in this chapter. These two will end up close, but not in a romantic way. (I'm saving that for my other... Way too many fics lol)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I'll be there in a minute!" came the voice just beyond the relative safety of Benrey's hiding spot. He'd assumed it was a closet, but his eyes were adjusting to the low light and it was becoming obvious this was a walk-in locker like everyone had at Black Mesa. One he really hoped wouldn't open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Don't jinx it.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the door slid open, Benrey looked up and met the eyes of an unfamiliar security guard. He promptly panicked, and a memory came unbidden to cloud his vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something cruel and malicious towered over him in a dark area. It looked down at him, helmet casting a dark halo around bright eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He backed up as far as he could, convincing himself he wasn't really scared. He was just tugging on a knowledge of how to cower in fear from a certain chicken hat Player 1's memories. He widened his eyes and trembled a little for good measure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His absolutely pogger acting seemed to all be unnecessary, because all it took was seeing the dried blood for the guard to get the picture. He nodded very slightly while blinking, a subtle "got it" gesture that Benrey knew pretty well. The guard tossed his helmet and uniform in and closed his locker before anyone else could see.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yo Calhoun, that's the fastest I've seen you strip outta work clothes. Got a hot date tonight?" Benrey heard casual chatter and light teasing between coworkers as the potential threat left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His relief was ruined by a nostalgic longing for even the most casual of friendships. Having been in constant pain, he hadn't noticed how horridly lonely he'd been. He wasn't even sure he remembered his sweet voice for joy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stop.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got distracted by the feeling of conflicting emotions from Gordon. The guy was fighting so hard not to feel sympathy and pity for him. He was fighting it with hate and bad memories, including the one he'd just felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey purposefully let himself feel nothing, letting out sweet voice colors for the emotions flooding into him without release. Dark Blue of "I hate you" made up the bulk of it, with some Royal of "betrayal", Dark Mint of "resentment", and a spattering of other colors quickly overtaken by the sour greens and blues. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he could cry like a human, he knew he'd have been doing so. He tried to withdraw into a corner, make himself as small as possible physically in the attempt to do the same emotionally and mentally. He was scared of what those emotions made him want.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But even that fear worsened the cycle. Gordon was fighting so hard to deny the instinctive sympathy he applied to even the smallest insects. With hatred. With hatred Benrey found himself agreeing with. It spiralled downward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let me die. Please. Please just. Please…" Benrey said aloud, his voice cracking. "I don't want your pity or sympathy I want death."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That stopped the spiral and Benrey felt a moment's relief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You are not dying.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let me die. I'm irredeemable. Please." Everything was dark blue. The whole locker room felt like an ocean he was drowning in. If he just stopped, maybe he could…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Emotional reset activate: y/n</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Yes</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey stopped. He was in a locker, he remembered what had just happened. Yet he felt nothing. Gordon had…had performed a reset on him. Just pressed all the buttons to get back to the stage select screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was angry, but he held it in check because there was more fear than fury. "Never. Do that. Again." He growled, but inside he felt weak. Gordon had access to so much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The booming voice in his head finally figured out how to open the chat log, it seemed. Because he soon heard Gordon's voice at a much more casual volume as he spoke in his head. </span>
  <b>"I'm not let</b>
  <span>ting you die. We're gonna make it through this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dude this isn't- I can't- You feel too much, Feetman! I'm not good at this." There were feelings of calmness, the desire for him to feel calmed as well, the irritation that he wasn't calmed by his words, the guilt, the fear of another reset… and the only emotion he could discern as his own was the fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <b>Benrey. </b>
  <span>Benrey listen- listen." There was the soft pause that always happened when Gordon put a hand to someone's shoulder or cheek to get their attention. Benrey remembered soft touches to his cheek and let the warm feeling of that memory wash over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever Gordon was going to say died out as the most anticlimactic confession ever came to pass. Benrey skipped straight past embarrassment to laughter at it all, especially Gordon's absolute confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey smiled, letting his mirth hit the wall that was Gordon's very slowly dawning realization. He might have snorted once or twice trying to get his words to come out. "Before you ask the obvious, yeah I liked ya, bro."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Past tense. No need to bring that into the current. Surviving was once again a more pressing matter than romance. Both of them agreed on that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>"Th</b>
  <span>at explains the kisses you gave I guess." Gordon pulled his attention away from Benrey, back to the matter at hand. Benrey didn't follow his attention immediately, however. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let out a single soft sweet voice bubble. It wasn't particularly strong, but it came out similar to his color of hope. It was a muted brown that summed up his feelings regarding his crush-turned-enemy-turned-mind-roommate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Burlywood, I feel safe and good.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time on "Gordon's been staring off into space for a long time", find out where the heck this plot is going! It's going somewhere, I swear! I have NOTES!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tell me what color Sweet Voice this has made you feel so far if you'd like more updates.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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